


a home doesn't abandon

by willalwaysbeyou



Category: GOT7
Genre: Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 01:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7597732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willalwaysbeyou/pseuds/willalwaysbeyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark finds himself alone in the house for the nth time after their return from Los Angeles. It's been a whole week since he spoke to Jackson and when the younger one finally comes home, what was supposed to be good and comforting, turned into pain, heartache and a very broken Mark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a home doesn't abandon

He allowed his eyes to flutter open, the warmth of the summer’s evening and the silence of the dorm prickling at his skin. He unlocked his phone to no new messages and sighed, resignation and acceptance in tow. It had been exactly a week since they returned from Los Angeles and six days since the reprimand session in JYP’s office in which he and Jaebum bore the brunt of the older man’s anger and disappointment. His planned schedules with Yugyeom were all reassigned to Jinyoung and Jaebum to keep them out of the spotlight, and with time on their hand, the youngest had decided to head home to his parents and brought the Thai guilt-ridden boy with him.

Mark was fast becoming accustomed to the silence of the dorm, with Youngjae preferring to head out to the studio for he was not present at the disastrous pool party and would rather avoid talking about the whole situation; Jaebum made conscious efforts to not be in the same room with Mark after the incident, making it easier to pretend there was never a chance to even talk about it and while Jinyoung would not outright avoid Mark, he would talk about such superficial topics in such a light and cheery tone that it was almost insulting to the both of them to try and pretend the pool party was a topic they need not talk about.

With a sad resignation, Mark realized that over the years, he had prepared himself for the eventual loneliness that was now consuming him. He had never been much of a speaker, and spent his days merely observing, treasuring little titbits he learnt about people and kept them close to his heart, convincing himself that even if he eventually never got to being close to people, the knowledge he had about them was enough to pretend they had shared a part of their lives with him and he was not actually alone. He had spent years building up walls around himself, protecting himself, equipping himself with survival tactics on how to survive once the people he loves start abandoning him.

A time that conspicuously felt like now.

Mark sat up from his bed and pulled his legs in to embrace them, crouched in a fetal position, alone and afraid. His thoughts were getting the better of him, on how he single-handedly caused the whole team to crumble, on how the dorm had never been this quiet _ever_ and how he was responsible in destroying something so good, so comfortable, and so accepting of him. The thoughts began raging through his every vein and pore, furious to consume him and he started rocking himself, struggling to keep his sanity intact, whispering words of encouragement that Jackson would have if he was around.

 _Jackson_.

Mark tried to ignore the physical clutching pain in his heart when he thought about Jackson. Jackson had flew back from Los Angeles earlier than the other boys, his filming schedules taking priority over the whole situation. It had been a full week since he heard from Jackson, with the younger man filming till late at night before coming in the dorm to grab a quick wink before leaving early in the morning to resume filming. Mark had tried staying up earlier in the week to just try and catch Jackson but he had somehow always fallen asleep before the younger one returned to the dorm, the hours too late even for the night owl. After a few days of the same happening, Mark had berated himself for being so needy. Jackson had been continuously filming, jeopardizing his health and Mark felt a deep sense of shame in needing Jackson to hold him, to tell him everything was going to be alright, in wanting Jackson to put him first before his schedules.

So there Mark was, rocking himself back and forth, trying to settle the erratic heartbeat that were beginning to drum his ears loudly, each whisper under his breath coming faster than the previous one. Mark didn’t know how long he stayed like that, the sun had long gave way to the moon before he finally calmed down and began feeling normal again. The dorm was still coldly empty, void of footsteps except for his own as he stepped out of his room and walked towards the room he used to share with Jackson, one that now bore a faint resemblance to a walk-in closet from all the things it held. 

He sat in the mess of a room, eyeing Jackson’s clothes and accessories that were strewn all over the floor. He smiled bitterly, recalling the times he would nag at the younger for messing up their room which resulted in Jackson pouting and Mark kissing off the pout before laughter filled up the room. _Happier times_. Now, as he packed his luggage for the promotional event in Thailand that they were flying off to, all he wished for was to just be able to look at Jackson’s face before flying off for Thailand, to hold his hand and hear the younger tell him everything was going to work out. There was only so much Mark could tell himself, and even lesser that he could find himself to believe in.

“Oh, hey. Are you packing for tomorrow?”

Mark turned and saw Jackson standing in the doorway of their old room, his face visibly tired but a smile still gracing his lips. He instantly felt better, having Jackson there with him, with the first voluntarily spoken words to him in days. Mark nodded, a grin plastered on his face, already believing things were only going to look up from there on. Jackson hesitated for a while before he dropped his bag on the floor and found his way into the room, stepping on some of his clothes in the process and then sat on his old bed, squarely facing Mark, a look of uncertainty on his face.

“So.. Um,” Jackson started carefully, avoiding eye contact with Mark. “I met up with Bam yesterday, and he’s still pretty shaken up. He’s still guilt-ridden, as he should be and I explained things to him, on the reasons why he should not be saying it and stuff. We’ll be okay. It’s just..um. I think we should not hang around Andrew and the other guys anymore? The maknaes get influenced easily, and you deserve better,” he finished, voice soft but his tone firm and steady. Jackson lifted his gaze to look at Mark only to find Mark staring back.

The older one swallowed back a lump that was coming up in his throat as he looked at his other half, the betrayal he felt with his whole body leaving him with a bitter taste. “You’re honestly sitting here, telling me you met up with Bam yesterday, who is all the way in Namyangju, yet you could not find five seconds in all these seven days to call, or to text me even?” Mark finally asked, his voice calm but the accusation sat heavily in Jackson’s lap. 

Jackson hung his head low, and that very instant, Mark broke to pieces because Mark would have accepted any excuse Jackson made for his silence, _anything_ at all because it would have been better than being confronted by the truth that Jackson was actually not too busy to call or text, that he merely _chose_ not to do it. He could feel the tears coming up furiously and eagerly but he was too broken to try and stop it or hide it from Jackson. For seven days, he had tried to be strong - although all he wanted to do was to curl up in Jackson’s arms - and he was now far too tired from pretending to be alright. The tears came by mercilessly, hot and salty down his cheeks to his lips.

“I’m sorry.”

 It was one thing to know in his mind that Jackson had been avoiding him, it was a whole thing altogether to hear Jackson acknowledge it. With every breath Mark took, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, one that ironically reminded him of how he was still alive and feeling. He would very much rather be dead and numb than to have to face his boyfriend, the taste of betrayal and anger present in every heartbeat.

Mark looked up at Jackson, the look in his eyes now defiant as he tried to make out the outline of the younger boy through his watery eyes. “I deserve better?” Mark asked, the laughter that emitted from his body sounded distant and unlike his, but the bitterness dripping from his words not lost on either men. “Who are you to make such a judgement? How are you any better? You knew what they were like when I introduced you to them, and you knew they would be a part of your life the minute you chose to lay with this fuckboy,” Mark spat, visibly shaking from a mix of anger and sadness, his words filled with venom.

Jackson flinched at Mark’s usage of ‘fuckboy’. He knew how uncomfortable the older one became whenever his friends addressed him as much and he knew how much Mark hated the word. Whenever his friends called him that, Mark would lay cuddled in his arms that night, the emotional scars of being labelled someone he was not making a deeper impact than any of them would like to admit and address. Hearing Mark call himself a ‘fuckboy’ broke Jackson’s heart and he stood up and inched closer to the older one, his hands stretching out, wanting to hold Mark in his arms, to wipe the tears off Mark’s face.

Mark stood up quickly, backing away from Jackson, staring at Jackson’s hand like it would have burned him had he allowed Jackson to touch him. Jackson let his arm drop as Mark backed away, putting an incredible amount of space between the two of them.

“Who are you to make such a judgement?” Mark asked again, this time his voice filled with hurt. “Why were they alright back then, but not now? Since when did you decide it was alright to start putting people in levels of those deserving and not? Did you grow bigger in the grand scheme of things? Because I’m still me and when it comes to us, I would expect you to still be you.” 

Jackson stared at the older one, wondering if Mark knew how frail he looked right now, how every word he uttered was a clear reflection of how broken he was and how Jackson hated himself for being the very person to inflict the pain Mark was carrying on his shoulders. “I… I… I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just.. I.. I’m just watching out for all of us, like I know you are too. I know LA will always be home to you, but right now, this is our home, Mark. This is home for seven of us,” Jackson explained, hoping to soothe some of the pain the older was experiencing.

Mark scoffed, one last tear rolling down his cheek as he blinked. “You’re one to speak, Wang Jiaer,” his tone sarcastic, a point clearly to be made. “Home? Here? Because all I hear from you lately is the pride you carry in being Chinese, in promoting in China, away from us. All I see is the joy plastered clearly on your face when you leave for China, eager to meet the other hyungs and catch up with them. Home, Jackson? Home is where someone belongs, not where someone leaves. A home doesn’t abandon.”

Mark looked straight in Jackson’s eyes as he made his point, determined for it to get through to Jackson. He stepped out of the room and Jackson could hear the light footsteps towards the main door, the shuffle of shoes before the door closed behind Mark, leaving Jackson alone in the dorm.

The two had never parted on bad terms before. Whenever Jackson had to leave for schedules in China, Mark would be visibly upset but their last conversations had always been filled with promises – promises to stay healthy, to come home as soon as possible, to call or text as much as he can.

Jackson stood in the middle of the room alone, the mess of the room a reflection of his emotions, a tear rolling down his cheek. Jackson had never been the one left behind; he was always the one doing the leaving. For the first time ever, Mark had been the one to walk out on him. As he stood paralysed in his spot, he suddenly understood what Mark had meant. It was never his intention, as it was not Mark’s intention right now too, for Jackson to ever make Mark feel this way, but only now did he realise how it felt being left behind.

_Abandoned._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write some angsty Markson for a while now, and although the situation itself was something I wished didn't happen, it gave me inspiration to get this going. This will only be a two-part thingy, which the next chapter concluding the story. I have an idea of how it's going to go down, so I'm posting this to make sure I don't procrastinate and actually get that part done and written. 
> 
> Let me know what you think? Comments and kudos spur me on more than you can ever imagine :)


End file.
